Crystalline
by olethrosx
Summary: As the wind wrapped him in a deceptively soothing embrace, scented like smoke and spring flowers- a mix that masked the mayhem that had ensued just hours earlier -Hatake Kakashi came to a heart thudding decision. [hokage kakashi][kakasaku][rating subject to increase]
1. opaque

( _a/n; i disclaim rights to anything of course. i probably won't do many author notes with story. this is not my first time around the block with naruto ff, but i haven't posted them here in a long long time, so i made a new account. this will be a romance, and it will be an intense romance probably. going to be a bit long, and probably no triangles or anything, just pure kakasaku. gonna be rated M, because there will 99.999% be mature/adult themes and especially sex, in this story, though that won't be for a bit. i'll be posting the next chapter very very soon. this is the backstory/set up, so it's just a set up. the story will be a hokage kakashi setting, focusing mainly on his feelings, him as hokage, and his developing relationship with sakura. set after the final war, but before the final timeskip chapter in canon. follows canon up until then however, for the most part. sasuke has returned to the leaf, but i'm excluding sasusaku as a thing here. anyways, reviews make my life complete_. )

* * *

_chapter 0._ _opaque_.

* * *

As the wind wrapped him in a deceptively soothing embrace, scented like smoke and spring flowers- a mix that deceptively masked the mayhem that had ensued just hours earlier -and beneath a hazy blue veil, Hatake Kakashi came to a heart thudding decision.

He couldn't be certain how long he stood there and gazed through uncovered eyes at the woman before him, with her pink hair matted and her back hunched over a civilian who lay broken upon the ground. It was a mindless sort of entrancement, as he helplessly watched, with his hands crammed in his pockets, and his own postured a defeated curve. One dark eye, and another sharingan, aimed on the medical shinobi before him as she intently worked, with her chest heaving from concentration, pouring her chakra into yet another wounded upon the battlefield. Every moment or so, she would blink away sweat and occasionally tears, from her vision, and once she had lifted her hand to smear a streak of coagulated blood across her cheek.

A realization so profound he had yet to even process how to respond, how to feel, how to think, where it was concerned, came upon him.

As the sounds of shinobi came and went, smoke died down and the moon moved inches higher in the sky, he stood swaying lightly at her side. Never once did she look up at him, not even long after her hands stopped their ministration, not after her head hung itself low and he could no long find her features behind a curtain of that flowery hair. Cradling the body in her lap, with her hand softly laid upon the still chest and another brought up to her face, presumably pressed tightly over her eyes.

He remained, silently observing, long after they were the last two on that battlefield that night.

As he peered at the comrade he had once taught as a young girl and had seen grown into a young adult. One who was a very fine medic, who he felt incredibly proud of on a daily basis, he couldn't stop the single, dominating thought from overtaking him.

It crawled up his tired muscles, which were trembling from overexertion and chakra depletion, and it settled into the bow of his lips which remained hidden away below his mask. Covered from sight, they bent beneath the weight and they settled into a pensive, distressed frown.

And several hours later, when she finally stood, and her legs shook terribly from being bent for so long, or perhaps from pure emotion, he wasn't certain—Hatake Kakashi moved quickly to her side without a second thought to slip one hand around her back, and another arm beneath her knees. He smoothly took her into his arms the moment her eyes rolled back and her world went black.

Her head rolled like dead weight on her neck over to lightly land against his chest, and he unconsciously tightened his grip.

As he held the overworked, distraught, rumpled form of Haruno Sakura in his embrace, he released a deep breath of acknowledgment: he no longer considered her a student, no longer considered her a child, no longer saw her as a little girl. She was a woman, a shinobi of the leaf who worked herself to the bone just as he did, for her people. And she was someone he never wanted to see crushed by a loss like this again, if at all possible.

It was that night, while he slowly traveled back to the hospital of the leaf with Sakura in tow, that he decided he would finally accept the job of Hokage.

He would protect them all, especially those who had managed to become precious to him, even after he had so long ago promised himself he would no longer allow anyone that close.

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{_ opaque _}_ : not able to be seen through; not transparent._


	2. quartz

_Chapter 1. quartz._

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With brush tip to grainy paper, Kakashi stained his signature upon an official document. Discarded to the floor beside his desk, his ceremonial hat was long ago cast aside and as a result his normally coarse, long hair was slightly lopsided as it fell into his face. The glow of day was quickly leaving him, forcing him to ignite a lamp before him for the extra light.

Behind him, the window pane was pried open, allowing the fading sounds of his villagers as they hustled in from a long day of work to be the music he signed papers to. Most members of the village were making their way in and he wished to join them more than anything. Sadly, as he grimaced at a particularly tall stack of papers, he knew he would have no such pleasure in the near future.

Releasing a gust of hot air, he arched back in his chair in a deep stretch. His calloused hands, which were ink stained rather than stained red with blood, or grimy with dirt, briefly ran through his messy hair. He had never thought he would see the day he would reach for a brush as a utensil rather than a kunai.

It was around three years ago that Uchiha Sasuke had returned to the village. Around three years prior to the great war concerning Madara, the loss of so many lives, and the sight of so many things that had been brought up from the shadows.

So many memories were laid to rest that day for Kakashi, personally. So many loose ends tied up—not quite neatly, but tied up none the less.

His eyes, uncovered and glassy from a long day of gazing at papers, became unfocused as he thought of his life and the many occurrences that brought him to where he was.

So much had happened during the war, but that was no more.

Konohagakure was currently experiencing a time of great peace.

As a result, he couldn't help but question himself. Was this really the life for him?

His eyes shifted back to the paperwork briefly, before he laid stained hands on the desk and pressed himself up into standing position. His bones creaked from sitting down hunched over all day, and he groaned tiredly.

He had never envied those who held this title preceding him, especially not now that he bore the responsibilities. Too much politics and homework for his tastes. It made him sorely miss the days when he trained freely with Naruto, or would get scalded by Sakura for being careless during a mission.

His thoughts swirled around memories of his old students and he grew unconsciously fond in a way that he had once thought he would never feel again.

Spinning around he cut a path towards the window to gaze out quietly at the pinkish sky. The sun was invisible behind the edge of the village, but the stars were already faintly glistening far above head.

The knock at the door was soft and quick, only two taps and they didn't wait for a response before he heard the door squeak as it swung open.

He listened to it click a second time behind the visitor before he turned around.

"Burning the midnight oil are ya," A delicate, casual voice, teasing in fact, "hokage-sama?" His mask was pulled up, but both of his eyes were exposed as he peered upon cheerful features of his once-student.

His expression instantly trained into a very rehearsed sort of amusement; both eyes closed, his hand drew to scratch his head and he grinned beneath the cloth covering his lips. "Sakura-chan," He murmured, "if you've come to bring me more paperwork..." He warned playfully, words dying off as he opened his eyes to gaze at her rather nonchalantly.

Beneath the lamplight and the warm glow that was flowing in from the dying day outside the window just behind him, she looked radiant. A cheerful smile was covering her slim, rosy lips. As the years have passed by, Sakura had grown only a few inches since she was a genin. Her blossom pedal hair was shoulder length and cut into a sleek frame for her heart shaped face. Her petite nose and wide, down-turned eyes suited her face even more with her age and settled permanently upon her forehead was her yin seal. He had come to realize that he could barely remember what she looked like without that mark of power always proudly displayed upon her peachy toned skin. It had also come to represent her womanhood, as a true second generation sanin. She had truly developed so much in the years he'd known her.

Her pink hair was parted to one side and as she gave him a smile she reached her one free hand up and brushed it behind her ear breezily. "Honestly, I'm surprised you're even doing what's on your desk as it is." She murmured, before switching her attention. Lifting her opposite hand in the air and waving a scroll in the air her expression turned slightly neutral, "I've got a mission."

His own expression sobered quickly. "For _you_, or a team of my choosing?"

Without warning she lifted her hand to toss the scroll in his direction. His hand shot out to grab it from the air and he began unrolling it as she spoke on the other side of the unrolled parchment.

"A team of your choosing," Her tone was rather bland and he could hear her shuffling papers on his desk unconcernedly, but he didn't remove his attention from scanning the document, "but we both know that I'm the best one suited for the mission."

He frowned at the document. It was an S-rank mission that called for a highly skilled medic. It was in fact right up her alley, it seemed true that it was the kind of mission he wouldn't hesitate to go suggest to the Hokage that he and his team, Sakura included, could go on. However, he wasn't a part of that team anymore, and these days, Naruto was training, and Sasuke wasn't equip to be her partner for _any_ mission.

After his return to the village, he was stripped of his rank and after some time and a trial, eventually determined safe to be integrated into the village. However, he would have to re-complete his tests and was serving a mandatory 4 years as a genin rank before he could take the chunin assessment. Even though he was more than capable of passing, even far surpassing, chunin rank, it was all the elders felt comfortable granting an ex-rogue. It was unprecedented after all, a rogue shinobi returning to their village and just being allowed to return without execution or imprisonment.

Team seven was hardly team seven anymore. Even team Yamato couldn't truly be called upon.

Kakashi was hesitant to send Sakura on any mission these days without at least one core member of their old team. If only he wasn't hokage, he wouldn't hesitate to go with her himself.

He didn't want to consider the reasons his care for Sakura's safety extended to such an extreme. It was all he could do not to allow it to corrupt his judgment on a day to day basis.

His thoughts automatically went to the memory of her working herself until her chakra depletion was so extreme she lost consciousness, practically her life, while trying to save those on the battlefield after the great war.

She was everything he had always told his students a shinobi should not be. Yet, in so very many ways, she was exactly what he thought a shinobi _should_ be.

Her emotions always got the better of her when it came to healing the wounded, when it came to comrades, when it came to her job. She took loss so hard and she took it to heart. She was such an emotional woman, it seemed too illogical for her to be a shinobi. After all, how could a shinobi carry on, keep fighting the good fight, when caring so very much as she did?

He had questioned it for so very long.

Yet, she always _had_ fought the good fight. She was a shinobi he knew he could count on, who would always come through. And though he wondered often if those emotions she was so fond of, and the attachment she so often seemed to feel, kept her up at night, he had never asked. It had never seemed appropriate to ask.

Besides, he had always considered it so very strange that in spite of her being a direct contradiction to everything he had taught her not to be, she still managed to be such a great comrade, and a shinobi he truly believed in.

He collapsed the scroll with a tight snap, tossing it onto his desk as though he was tired of looking at it, with a light sigh. "I can send a team of medical nin."

Though he had yet to look back up at her, he could practically hear the instant grimace that converted her features. "But why?" She countered instantly.

His disparaged eyes shifted back to her and he swallowed dryly as he peered at her stern, confused disagreement.

"I thought you would instantly agree." She frowned, tossing down the paper weight she had been fiddling with a moment earlier. It landed with a loud clunk and she continued without acknowledging it. "I _want_ to go on this mission. It makes sense to send me."

Her passionate response was expected, but it still sunk to the bottom of his stomach like lead.

In truth, he couldn't properly explain to her why he felt apprehensive about sending her on such a mission.

_Because I'm not going to be there. Because I don't want you to be alone. _None of those things seemed appropriate at all.

"I need you at the hospital." He countered.

"Tsunade-sama spends all of her time there now that she isn't hokage anymore."

He blinked because his eyes suddenly felt scratchy. "If anything happens to you this village will be at a great loss. I can send a team of medical shinobi just as easily."

She drew her hands up like weapons, with fists balled up with anxiety. "Kakashi-sensei!"

Her tone was sharp and once upon a time hearing her call him that would have brought about mirth, or nostalgia, perhaps a little indifference, however at their current ages, in their current situations, it somehow managed to injure him. He felt the familiar frown that he felt _that_ day come to weigh upon his lips. The day he had decided upon this path. The day he decided to become hokage.

"Sakura." He dropped the lighthearted tone momentarily, "It's not a good idea."

She was puffed up like a hot bun, steaming, with red cheeks and her eyes reflected passion and animosity. "You're making a mistake." It was true that she had long ago stopped being a people pleaser. A little girl who was afraid of him, or felt pushed aside by him. Now with her fiery spirit and resentment of his decision shining brightly in her mint green eyes she looked positively dazzling, and oh so grown up. "This isn't a matter of whether you think I can or can't do this-" instantly he felt a jolt to his chest at the thought that she had misunderstood his reluctance to be him doubting her ability to succeed, but he remained silent as she continued regardless, "-but there are lives at stake here. I'm the best shinobi for this job, Kakashi-sensei. I need to be put on this mission." She finished strongly, with her lips parted and her chest rising and falling notably.

For a long moment he gazed at her. Both of his eyes were uncovered, as they normally were when he wore his hokage regalia. The silence between them remained while he peered on effortlessly. She had made her stand and she intended to win, she had nothing more to offer unless he denied her again.

He admired that spirit of hers.

His chest felt tight but he couldn't reason why. He compensated by diminishing his posture to a lazy hunch, with his hands coming up to scrub over his half-masked face. Fluttering his eyelids closed, he breathed in heavily through his nose.

Nothing seemed right, no explanation to her. Even if he said what he thought; that perhaps he was feeling _worried_, she wouldn't stand down regardless.

She was Haruno Sakura. She did not give up. She had indomitable spirit.

His brows sunk into a tired, low line and he exhaled deeply through his mouth.

When he finally came to look back at her again, perhaps several minutes later, she was still standing before him with relentless intent, and he let out a very hoarse, short chuckle.

The sound seemed to break her rigid posture marginally. Her fists unclenched, though her lips remained in the same determined flat line.

"No matter what I say you're going to argue with me anyway aren't you." It wasn't a question, and she didn't treat it as such. Rather her expression lightened considerably. "Alright." He grumbled. "You win."

His muscles felt too tight and his brows and eyelids felt heavy, like he needed to lay down and sleep off the effects of his conversation. "Yes!" She pumped a fist into the air and he watched with frozen uncertainty as she bolted in his direction.

It wasn't that he couldn't have just moved, because he could have-he was certainly quick enough. It was something else entirely. Something like a reluctantly surfacing tenderness that kept him glued to the spot as she wound around the desk and his direction. "You won't be sorry!" She promised him, quickly closing the gap until she plummeted into his midsection none too softly.

Her forehead landed near his collarbones and her arms which circled around his waist felt cool over top of his stuffy robe. She smelled familiar and subtly sweet. She never wore perfume and her shampoo was so mild it was impossible to smell unless she got as close as possible. With the crown of her head pressed just below his nose, the sweetness of it was wafting his direction, and he realized that he had come to identify it with her.

Somehow he couldn't recall the amount of times exactly that she'd ever come close enough in the past for him to smell it. He only knew it must have been more times than he had ever cared to count, and for more reasons that he even cared to remember. Friendly, during times of great stress, while in battle, for so many reasons.

His arms didn't lift to wrap around her, he didn't even have the time to contemplate whether it was an action he even wanted to complete. Her embrace was cool and sweet and it was ever so swift. She removed herself from the contact nearly as quickly as he had time to consider the affection of the nature.

As such he merely cleared his throat and peered in the direction of his desk and closed his eyes in a forcibly nonchalant manner. "Good. Don't make me regret this." He murmured.

She gave him a beaming smile which he could see from the corner of his eyes the moment they opened. "I won't! Thank you, Kakashi-sensei," her smile never left her face as she turned around and exited the room without a second thought. A back draft of wind was left in her wake and the rather loud click of the door.

He blinked multiple times at the empty space where she stood moments before with the tightness in his chest growing ever harder to ignore.

His eyes shifted to the loosely discarded scroll with the details of the mission he'd apparently just been tricked into agreeing to giving her, still laying on the desk. Releasing a sigh he smiled at both her, and himself, in spite of that tightness that arrested him.

She had left so quickly, he didn't even get a chance to go over the paperwork with her on the mission, or any of the details to boot.

He raised his arms in his second stretch of the hour, groaning quietly.

The discomfort in his chest was a matter he would simply compartmentalize. He attempted not to look at the scroll anymore for the time being, instead he turned and peered out the window. It seemed the tightness more easily ebbed when he pretended he didn't know why it was such a bother.

It was much easier that way.

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{ _quartz _}_ : is beneficial for storing and retrieving information of all types._


	3. adamite

_chapter 2. adamite._

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Many hours passed by that night before Kakashi finished his tedious work. In truth he spent several hours just sitting in his chair, counting the minutes and brush strokes as he drew up paperwork and mindlessly signed his name in various places.

He was mentally drained and his entire body was stiff and ached by the time he finally decided to call it a night. Though he was sure there were others who would consider his new job and title to be a walk in the park, or rather like retirement, he couldn't bring himself to feel so lucky. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the title; his one dream had some time ago been to protect those precious to him, much like those who came before him—but he didn't expect so much boring paperwork. Of course, he had an idea, but even his perceptions of what the job would be didn't quite stack up.

Hours ago the sun had sunk below the treeline and the sky had turned a deep Prussian blue. Giving one final frown at the pile of paperwork before him he didn't waste a moment scooping up his hat and heading towards the door, leaving the room in a hurry. He wasn't eager to spend anymore time doing work.

His strides were long and he carried himself with slouched shoulders that made him look dumpy in his hokage uniform, hanging so loosely down his frame in a way that made him look curiously shorter than he really was.

The thing he hated most about his customary hokages' robe was that he didn't really have anywhere to stick his hands; his neutral habit of stuffing his hands into his pockets while idle was no longer an option. Rather, they hung at his sides as he walked, making him feel rather unlike himself.

The streets were empty spare the guiding glow of lamps and the hovering lights of windows he passed by as he slowly made his way towards his destination.

He would consider it a simple duty, but it was somehow much more complicated than that.

As his steps rather quickly carried him—in truth probably too quickly for his liking—to the apartment complex that housed many young shinobi of the village, he was frowning in noteworthy concentration. Up the wide steps and to the top floor he made his way with dark circles under his eyes to the first door at the very top of the stairs.

With a pause to take a breath he tapped his knuckles against the smooth, cool surface of the door, again dismayed by the absence of pockets to shove his hands into.

The wait was a short one, almost as if she was standing just a few steps away when he knocked.

Seconds later the door swung wide and Sakura appeared.

She looked not much differently than the way he last saw her. She still wore the same clothing; a rather traditionally cut red dress and a pair of standard issued shinobi spanks beneath. The only thing missing was her boots and knee braces which seemed to have been tossed aside, judging by the sight of them on the ground just behind her. Instead she stood with bare feet against the dark floor, a few inches shorter than usual without the usual heel of her boot to uplift her.

Her hair was slightly mussed and her eyelids were beginning to be low set with an on coming need for sleep.

He wondered why she was awake at this hour. It was several hours ago that they parted ways and she had been so excited about the prospect of her new mission. Seeing her now she just seemed sleepy, but not quite ready for bed.

He gave her a crooked, masked smile and lifted a hand in the air. "Yo, Sakura-chan."

The smile she responded with was smaller than usual, but just as sweet. "Oh, hi Kakashi-sensei," her lips downturned to a remarkably uneasy frown, "are you hurt," her eyes quickly skimmed him and her hand came up to lay against his bicep as she did so. After finding no wounds of any kind, her direction shifted rapidly while her hand dropped away. "Are the boys okay? Is everything okay?"

After so long with Sakura, one learned that she was always a medic, a teammate, and a friend, no matter when you ran into her, even in the dead of night. Kakashi wasn't surprised by her questions and he waved a hand to brush them off. "No need to panic. Nothing so serious." He remained standing nonchalantly outside of her door for the moment as she released a cleansing breath.

"Sorry, after so long in the field with you I forget sometimes that you're Hokage now." She glanced him over again, "You never show up at the hospital half dead anymore." At this time she moved aside so that he might come in if he wanted, and he took the offer by carefully stepping around her as she spoke while shutting the door back behind him. "I can't say I'm disappointed not to see you there though, honestly."

He made his way to stand in the middle of her living space and turned to face her with his arms hanging limply at his side.

Spinning lightly on her heels, she gave him another comforting and familiar smile. "I prefer that robe to a hole in the chest." She grimaced, "Cleaning up your blood was beginning to get tiresome, _old man_. Especially when every time I left the room, you bailed out the window on me."

He pretended to take the joke as well as she meant it to be taken. His eyelids fluttered closed and he grinned tightly through a mocking tone. "Ouch, I'm not _that_ old ya know."

The gentle laugh she gave him afterwards did much to uplift his spirits and allow him to forget the odd, dull tingles her comment made him feel. "Yeah, yeah, I know." She took a few steps away from the door in his direction and his muscles tensed imperceptibly as he remained glued to his spot.

Often times, her smile would remind him of that day. The day he watched her shake, and cry, and try until she could try no more. He would see her cheerful smile and think of all the times he'd ever seen it melt away from her face. He would see her fear, her pain, her determination and sadness.

Sometimes he worried if she made him soft, but thoughts like those he stacked on a shelf at the very darkest corner of his mind. He didn't have time to second guess himself so forwardly.

She brushed a pink lock of her side swept bangs aside. "Don't forget that we've known each other for twelve years."

He breathed her words in through his mask and they settled into a space between his ribs. He paused for a short span of time before speaking. "How could I forget?" His eyes shifted around her room, "I can't forget anything, between you and Naruto and Sasuke. You kids won't let me forget." He teased with a falsely casual expression.

She shrugged in good humor.

He took a breath before his eyes fluttered closed, "We have mission details to go over."

His eyes remained closed, but he could imagine the expression on her face. Bold, excited, perhaps a little embarrassed. "Oh yeah!" The tone of her voice was sheepish but thrilled, "I was so happy you agreed that I forgot to do that."

His shoulders felt stiff as he gave a soft shrug. Rather than comment on her abruptly leaving earlier that evening—a sight he was having a difficult time banishing from his thoughts—he decided to drive the topic forward. "We have to discuss what teammate you're going to take along with you."

Parting his eyes just in time to see her face fall from cheerful to focused, he swallowed gruffly. "Why do I need an escort?"

"You don't need one, but it would be the safest bet. Medical shinobi don't typically go alone on missions, Sakura, you know that."

He watched her chin bob sharply.

"Of course I know that, but-"

A loud sigh parting from his lips caused her words to die off quickly in a quiet rush.

She looked at him intently for a moment. Mint green eyes met his two mismatched orbs, and he could see the subtle dent between her eyebrows as a sign of her rapid thoughts. Her fingers had curled up at her sides and he could hear her breathing from where he stood.

"Fine," She breathed after a moment of quiet rested heavily between them. Surprise brought his eyebrows up into arches and she gave him a deadpanned look in response. "Whatever you say goes, hokage-sama." She blinked once and he focused on the way her lashes fell against her cheek rather than the pitfall of his stomach.

He didn't truly need to wonder whether moments like what was transpiring was why he had seeked to become Hokage in the first place. To see her this way, to see her safe and confident, and to hear her call him by that title so smoothly. Like she never doubted for once second, like she truly believed he deserved the title.

At times he questioned whether Sakura truly did think that; he hadn't been the best teacher he could have been towards her. Not until it was far too late—not until she had another sensei, and had grown so strong in categories he couldn't assist her with—had he realized how grave it was to underestimate her capability.

Other times he cleansed the thoughts, scrubbed them away entirely and replaced them with a far more cumbersome thought. A thought that enveloped him in an uncomfortable sort of awareness. During these times he reasoned—he _knew_—that had he taken the time to view her as a proper student, and developed a proper bond with her the way he perhaps should have done, he couldn't see her as he did now. She would always be his student; she would never grow to become Sakura the woman he respected, or Sakura the woman who he considered a friend and a comrade beyond that of someone he'd nurtured from childhood. She wouldn't be the _woman_ standing before him now.

A grimace washed over his half covered features, but he attempted to flatten it out as he gazed at her. "Submit a name first thing in the morning or else I'll pick someone for you." He cleared his throat.

He didn't want to think about the fact that it was probably unfairly accommodating of him not to just pick someone for her in the first place, or to just deny her the mission entirely because he was hokage and he simply _could_.

Rather, he lifted two fingers in a lazy wave, "Well, I'll be going now," His eyes crinkled at the corners, "I've gotta catch up on my beauty sleep if I want to stay young and beautiful forever."

A quick once over of her expression told him that she was uncertain how to feel, but she nodded politely and gave him a thin, mild smile. "Alright then."

"Night then Sakura-chan." He breathed, stepping around her close enough that he could feel the fabric of his robe brush against her arm. There wasn't a moments hesitation before he swung the door open for himself, tossing a second wave over his shoulder one last time before stepping out.

His back was to her as he reached behind him to pull the door closed, and he just as he tugged it he heard her soft voice squeeze through the crack. "Goodnight Kakashi-sensei."

Her words seeped into his skin, causing those uncomfortable tingles again. The sharp click placed the thick door between them and he could no longer hear her, nor did he run the risk of looking up to see her mildly off-put gaze.

* * *

{ _adamite_ } : _aligns the heart and solar plexus chakras, stimulating both mental and physical being._


	4. covellite

_chapter 3. covellite._

* * *

Restless sleep caused the dark imprints that had made their presence clear the previous day to linger beneath his contrasting eyes, as Kakashi rose and dressed in his uniform the next day. Rather than wear the entire official robe set, he simple chose to wear his traditional shinobi field gear, and throw on his overcoat and hat. There were those on the council of elders who would frown at him for his half-dedication, or perhaps even compare him to his late master, the fourth hokage. However, his thoughts on their opinions wasn't exactly considerable in amount.

As such he gladly wore his outer robe only, eternally glad to be able to brush it aside in order to cram his hands into his pockets beneath.

He missed the days when he could wear what he wanted to without any given person questioning him or his dedication towards his position. Of course, Kakashi lived in his shinobi gear. He could barely recall a day when he wore something that wasn't standard issue for a jōnin or ANBU.

A light stretch and he was out his door and headed towards the towering building in the center of the village. His eyes drifting lazily up towards the tall mountainside where the face of his predecessors was etched. He glanced over their faces; the first and second, the third, who he had spent so many times facing in the very office he was headed towards, as he accepted another mission. The fourth, his own personal sensei and one of the most kind and genuine men he knew. Even Tsunade, who had stepped up to the plate even though she was notoriously known, much like himself, for being originally very reluctant to accept the position.

He turned his eyes away rapidly rather than look at his own face. With his mismatched eyes and his half-masked face he looked so strangely unscrupulous. His self worth had taken many hits throughout the years, and his thoughts often drifted into dark spaces that caused such strong negativity, even self loathing. After so many years of living in such a head space, he found it difficult not to view himself in such light.

The man who had gotten his best friend killed; the man who failed to protect _her;_ the man who let everyone down; who was a terrible teacher; who was a monster. He thought such acidic thoughts so very often.

During these times normally he would bury his face into his iconic books—not so much to read anymore, as he had read them all a hundred times—but mostly to hide his face, to alter his thoughts,and to distract himself most of all, from thinking of the things he regretted most.

These days he was shunned for reading his precious books in public, now that he was hokage.

He frowned at the thought of what exactly taking those books away from him truly meant. It meant so much more than it must have seemed to the villagers. His right hand within his pocket ached to pull it out and stick it up to his nose so that his eyes could glue to its pages; he felt vulnerable with his eyes having nothing to focus upon. He wondered if any given person could see the emotions present behind his pupils.

His walk was over much quicker than he might have thought, and as he opened the door to his normally empty office, there was more than a pile of paperwork on his desk on this morning.

The cozy, early morning sunlight cast a glow from his open window over the room, and it was back lighting the person leaning with their hips propped against his desk. Having slid a stack of papers to the side to make room for herself, she stood with her pink hair taking a coral hue thanks to the impression of the sun. Her skin seemed tanner with light source behind her. With arms crossed over her chest and one ankle hooked over the other, she looked taller than usual somehow.

Though there was no hesitation in his steps, or motions as he entered and shut the door behind him, he felt pins and needles in his palms.

She pressed herself up from his desk and stood straight with her hands on her hips.

There were countless times in his life, perhaps even once daily, that he was thankful for his mask. This was one of those times, and his lips parted slightly with the need to catch his breath.

"You're late," her tone was playful, "hokage-sama."

He felt the nostalgic sentimentality of that statement settle over the exposed skin of his face, and he attempted to blink it away. "There was a kitten in a tree in dire need of my assistance." He shrugged.

She peered at him through a keen squint. "I'm sure there was."

Carefully, he walked around her towards his desk, "Who starts their morning before sun up by choice?"

"Productive people?" She chimed as he took a seat just in time to watch her turn to face him.

The light was now cast upon her face and her crystalline seafoam green eyes looked impossibly striking. Her rosy lips seemed paler in the light, and every inch of her features were composed with a fondness that made his heart throb and his skin feel taut and feverish.

He cleared his throat quietly, leaning back in his chair in a lazy fashion. "Alright," He murmured, "Let's get down to it."

If she seemed put off by his rush to end the lighthearted mood she didn't let on. Her smile didn't drop, and the affection present on her features didn't diminish.

With a swirling sharingan eye, he studied her every detail of her body while she gazed on at him.

Though it was only a breath of time before she spoke in response, he noted so many things. The way her skin looked supple like a nectarine, with nearly invisible hairs that caught the light and made her look as though she was glowing. His eyes scanned over the spikes of her eyelashes as she blinked, and the way her teeth were straight and rather small when she opened her mouth to speak. Her fingers were clasped together before her, with fingerless gloves revealing the tips of her slender fingers and short, groomed nails. There was a very faint scar in a parallel line above her collarbone, entirely healed and well at that, and the tips of her hair brushed over the bunched muscles of the tops of her shoulders. It flipped inward slightly, pointing towards her narrow chin, and her bangs brushed just above her left eyebrow which was a delicate and naturally arched line. They weren't particularly thin, not overtly feminine either, but he had seen them arch, he had seen them slope, and he had seen them pinch, time and time again.

"Shikamaru." She exhaled the name confidently.

He studied her expression for a moment in it's neutrality. "Shikamaru." He repeated.

She nodded. "That's my decision."

For a moment he considered it. Nara Shikamaru was a talented shinobi, there was no doubt about it. He was the first to rise to the level of a jōnin in their village among the rookies. Though Kakashi couldn't think of many personal details about the boy, he knew enough about his talent, his previous achievements and from what they've encountered each other in the field to know that Sakura had made a very astute decision, probably better than even he could have.

But there was still a bubbling within him that questioned the decision; Nara Shikamaru wasn't Naruto, he wasn't even Sasuke, he wasn't _Kakashi_.

He breathed out deeply. "If you're certain of yourself, so be it."

Though she hadn't let on before, she must have been nervous; at his words her posture sunk marginally, and she released a light sigh. "Thank you, Kakashi-sensei."

His expression was neutral as he peered at her. A calloused hand reached out and he gingerly picked up the scroll he had thrown on his desk the night before. He resealed it quickly before tossing it out at her.

She caught it and instantly twisted both of her hands around it securely.

"Inform him he is to report to here. You'll leave tomorrow at first light."

Nodding instantly, she smiled at him and turned around immediately. He didn't comment on her informality—regardless of whether she was his previous student or friend, she should bow as he was the hokage, however she never seemed to do that. He would grin at this fact, if he weren't so worried for her safety.

"Sakura," He said quickly, causing her to stop and turn back towards him. Her expression was questioning—the absence of the usual lighthearted _chan_ made him sound noticeably more serious. "Be diligent—and be careful."

The nod and smile she gave him in return was meant to be soothing but it simply made his stomach drop again. He wasn't certain whether it was nerves for her mission any longer, or if it was something much larger than that.

"Of course." She assured him, and then left without a moments hesitation.

Sinking further into his chair like a rag doll, he sighed deeply, the joints of his body felt tight, like he needed to stretch, fight—do something.

* * *

Kakashi came to wonder exactly how she had found him so quickly; that Nara boy.

Sakura must have known right where to look for him in order to deliver the scroll, because Nara Shikamaru was knocking on his door not even a full half hour later.

Truly Kakashi hadn't even had time to take a nap, which he had so desperately wanted to do, before being confronted with this task.

Just as he peered up at the door it swung open and in entered the subject of his thoughts just minutes prior. He had just been wondering whether Sakura had made an apt choice; could anyone truly replace he or his students as a proper teammate for Sakura?

Even just a few years prior he wouldn't have questioned it; he would have accepted that it was the duty of a shinobi to accept any mission, and any team, given to them. He wouldn't have questioned whether Sakura had acceptable companionship, whether they would keep her safe enough.

However he had begun some time ago, to worry far more about her than ever before.

He couldn't help but imagine terrifying things happening to her.

His brows sunk low as the leaf shinobi entered and stood before him with one hand tucked into his pocket and the other scratching at the nape of his neck. He smelled like smoke and spearmint, even from the distance they were apart. For a moment, Kakashi could see the boys' sensei—Sarutobi Asuma—faintly echoed in both posture and nature. Both of them were relaxed men, approachable in a strangely _un_approachable way.

Kakashi nodded. "Nara." He breathed out.

The boy with the dark eyes and hair gave him a polite tuck of his head. "Hokage-sama, you sent for me?"

The silver-haired hokage gave him a masked, impartial grin. "Yes. Did Sakura brief you?"

There was a pause where Shikamaru gave a shrug of his shoulders and a tired expression. "Well, sorta. When she found me, I was with Ino and that woman doesn't exactly make anything easy. Sakura just handed me a scroll and told me to see you." He had a dull but soothing voice. Low and rumbling, definitely not hurried, but confident in himself it seemed.

Kakashi gazed at him thoughtfully. "You two will be together on this mission for a few weeks, possibly less if Sakura manages to cut the recovery time of each of the villagers the way only she could." He blinked thoughtfully, lacing his fingers in his lap. "I have confidence the mission will go smoothly."

Shikamaru nodded seamlessly and instantly. "So do I."

For a long moment Kakashi simply breathed, and it seemed that Shikamaru was content to rather quietly stand and observe the room. He didn't move, only stood there with an uninvolved, bored face.

Kakashi thought back to the war and before; the boy was a warrior, and not one to take lightly, but it seemed so unlikely looking at him now, that he had ever lived that life—that he had lost his father, his sensei. That he had held such an esteemed position, that he had participated and lived through the war they were still, in ways, recovering from. The boy certainly didn't seem like someone who had such life experience under his belt.

But then again, Kakashi supposed that he probably didn't look like he had been through much himself at that age.

He sighed, "Just return safely." The tone of his voice was equally as tired as Shikamaru's quiet hum of a response.

"Yes, Hokage-sama."

His unmatched eyes disappeared behind his eyelids as he attempted to banish his insecurities.

The room still smelled faintly of cigarette smoke for the next half hour.

* * *

It was before sunrise when Sakura first laid eyes on Nara Shikamaru, as he sluggishly made his way to their meeting spot the next morning. The sky was still as dark as it had been when she went to sleep that night, and the stars were out with the early spring morning chill.

She spotted him as he raised his hand to wave at her lazily. His hair stood thick and bristled, and his shoulders were slouched as always.

He was indeed a very aloof man, who if anything, leaned towards being constantly perturbed, but Sakura had grown to trust him intensely.

Giving him a grin she landed a firm pat on his shoulder as he came within touching distance of her. "Shikamaru-kun," She winked, "You ready to get this show on the road?"

A very chronic sort of weariness came upon his expression. "As ready as I'll ever be," He murmured and she laughed lightly. His tired features seemed to lighten considerably at the noise. "Let's get to it, eh?" He grinned a lopsided smile in return and they set off without a moments hesitation.

For a man who never seemed eager to do anything, he certainly seemed eager enough to joke with her. In ways it reminded her of a certain man with silver locks and a perpetual inability to tell time. Both of them seemed lazy enough, indifferent even, but when it came down to it, she knew they both cared more than they let on.

She had a nose for that kind of thing; seeing underneath the underneath—as _he_ told team seven that day so long ago. She didn't take that lesson so lightly anymore.

They set off, intent on being half way before the setting of the sun. It was only a days travel to the remote village, and she was excited to head out. It would be her first mission away from the hospital shifts she'd been piling on, in some time.

She'd have to thank Kakashi again for allowing her to go on it, though she wasn't entirely certain why he seemed so reluctant, she was glad he'd changed his mind.

If there was one person she had a particularly difficult time deciphering what exactly it was that was underneath the underneath, it was the lesson giver himself. Though she'd grown to know that there was _something_ beneath his actions, some intent of some kind that was deeper than it seemed, she couldn't quite ever decide _what_ it was exactly.

Kakashi was a murky pond; so still and difficult to see beneath the surface, calm and composed, but when she attempted to dip beneath the surface, there was a ripple that made it even more difficult to breach. It would stir up debris, and ultimately, he would close himself off or all together divert her away in another direction.

It was incredibly irritating for her.

She nudged Shikamaru with her elbow and he turned his head her way to give her another subtle grin before pulling out a cigarette. It was a very rehearsed routine between them as she nudged him again, harder this time, scolding him for his habit. As usual, he responded lackadaisically, with a shrug and an excuse of some kind.

She decided it would be an interesting, but not unpleasant, mission.

She was already excited to tell Naruto, Sasuke and of course, Kakashi about it when she returned.

* * *

{_ covellite _}:_ develops your inner intuition and is particularly helpful during times of transition._


	5. galena

_( a/n: thanks for hanging in guys and thank you so much for your feedback. this story is expected to be quite long, but it won't necessarily move at a slow pace, the plot will move along rather quickly. )_

_chapter 4. galena._

* * *

Sakura gave the brunette man before her, with his heavy lidded eyes and his straight nose, a very cheerful grin. "What are you talking about?" She smiled at him, tossing herself onto the bed in her full shinobi gear, shoes and all. Plopping down she felt the landing—even upon the soft surface—echo throughout her entire body sharply.

A humorous tone came to replace the usual blasé one that set Shikamaru's features. "Didn't take you for the type to play coy, Sakura." He propped himself against the wall of the small hut they were allotted for their stay during the mission.

"No, I'm serious," She closed her eyes while they spoke, but the casual smile never melted away from her features. Closing her eyes however, was a priority. They ached from the long days work, just the same way her extremities tingled from lack of blood flow. It had been a difficult week.

Truth be told she had been using far too much chakra these days and her body was beginning to put up a fight. With each day she became exhausted an hour earlier, and she and her lazy mission companion had only been there for a little longer than a week. Truth be told she should take it easy, rather than just popping in soldier pill after soldier pill, but she was being stubborn. She didn't want to take a break with the mission just because she was becoming a little drained. It was the kind of thing she would scald any of her comrades for. However, if it came down to it, she had her yin seal with the extra chakra to tide her over, plus her chakra control was impeccable, so she wasn't going to give easily. She would manage, regardless of a little fatigued chakra.

She lolled her head his way drowsily. Her body was beginning to feel heavy, though it was still early in the late evening—the sun was barely even hidden beyond the horizon just yet.

Shikamaru's prominent brows rose mildly, "Wow, even I'm beginning to believe you," He teased lightly. The tone seemed odd, but very welcome, compared to his usual indifference, "you really mean you haven't noticed?"

Her eyes opened to peer up at him and instantly she felt the discomfort deep within her eye sockets. "I really don't have any idea what you're talking about."

He released a tired sigh. "Being on a team with Naruto for so long must have busted your sense of awareness." He shook his head as though it was a shame, but her eyes had already drifted shut of their own accord before she could see.

She could hear him speaking, but his words were beginning to bleed together like a stain on delicate fabric. His gruff, muted voice was lulling her to sleep so nicely after such a long day.

It sounded so wonderful to listen to the calm tones.

Her world quickly faded away until she was no longer of a conscious state of mind.

And she dreamed;

_She felt the cool, dry hand before her grab onto her. They gripped desperately and the rough skin slipped around her slender digits. Her lips pressed together firmly as she felt that hand squeeze her own. It seemed too dark for the moment to see exactly who's hand it was that had grabbed a hold of hers, but just that it felt familiar to her touch._

_Whoever they were, they were yelling and pleading with her—it seemed as she continued existing in this blank, mysterious, dark place next to this person, that time was not a factor._

_The next moment everything seemed entirely shaken up, as the hand released hers and two long, wiry forearms shot out to snatch her up from the ground. Her replying gasp was so loud that her throat felt raw as those fingers curled into her arms, and those strong, unknown arms violently began to jounce her. Like a doll she flopped in the grasp, neck bobbing and teeth clicking, but she was helpless to stop them._

_She felt as though she may have swallowed her voice; she felt very helpless to the motion, which was making her queasy with each passing moment._

_Until suddenly, the voice calling out to her seemed to sound too familiar and she could hear them calling her name._

_"Sakura!" It begged, sounding distorted and sharp, "you've got to-!"_

_Pleading with her as she was being so vigorously shaken, and she could barely open her eyes against the jarring long enough to respond; "Stop-" She grumbled, "Stop shaking me!" Her voice sounded raspy and forlorn._

_And she realized that her entire body felt chilled and sore as she shook along with the force of the arms._

* * *

He was daydreaming.

Alone, Kakashi sat on the rooftop of the hokage tower, gazing out at the late evening sky. The sun hadn't yet gone down, but it was due within the next hour or so. His eyes scanned the bustling civilians as they made their way home for the night, while he hoisted his hand up to tousle his gray hair.

There was a wooden feel to his entire body from so many nights doing paperwork rather than training. He could virtually feel the thick layer of dust and he made a promise to himself that moment that he would begin training more than three times a week again.

He was convinced that if he managed to find more time to exercise daily once again, he would be able to eliminate not only the stiffness of his muscles, but perhaps even the rather ceaseless thoughts of a certain person he didn't recall ever _asking_ or _wanting_ to feel the way he did about.

He had resigned to simply _train_ the feelings away.

Finding the time to fulfill his hokage duties, train, eat, sleep and shower, might be difficult, but he was certain it would pay off eventually.

Hopefully, sooner rather than later.

Deciding to ask Shizune to help him think up a somewhat feasible agenda, he pushed the thought of regularly scheduled training out of his mind for the time being.

However, with these thoughts gone, it was only a moment later that much more troubling remembrance came racing forward.

Sakura and her partner had been gone for exactly 10 days and Kakashi felt a sense of unrest on a daily basis, looming over his mind at all times even while directly dealing with other priorities. Even after he, as he always did, reminded himself that it was the last thing he should be thinking about while doing work, or going about his daily life. It was truly becoming a major dilemma, one that he wasn't quite certain he knew how to handle it.

Matters of the shinobi domain, he understood. At times there were even other things he could handle without any issue. The territory of someones direct importance, of affection, worry and care was not his forte at all.

His teeth dragged along the bottom of his lips while he considered the issue it was becoming.

He hadn't truly ruminated on any single person so much since his old team was still a team.

Before Obito seemingly was ripped from the world and before Kakashi himself ripped Rin from it.

He shivered at the significance of the realization.

Curling his fingers up into balls he pressed himself up from the roof and without warning, leap off towards his home. His apartment was located rather close to the tower, as he should be able to return as quickly as possible. The elder council had offered him an even closer apartment, but he declined politely.

He didn't want to be _that_ close to work; it made it more challenging to make excuses not to do be there on time.

Entering his home, he didn't turn on any lights, as the setting sun was providing a warm orange glow through the window panes and lightweight gray curtains that hung over them. Rather, he focused his energy on tossing his hat onto his lounge sofa, and shrugging out of his long white robe.

He released a deep sigh at the way it felt to be back in his shinobi gear, without the ever present reminder that he was now the figurehead of the village.

Without a moments hesitation, he flopped down on the same sofa beside his hat as his eyes drifted closed. They felt burdened and to seek reprieve he attempted a meditative-like state.

His thoughts drifted like the current of a stream. Mostly, they were linear, and the more he allowed his mind to roam, the more it quickly it seemed they rushed through his consciousness uninhibited. It felt as though his head was filled with water as he sat, attempting a quiet peace. Each time he breathed his chest felt compressed by the weight of his thoughts.

It was something like an hour that he sat there, with his fingers linked in his lap, his shoulders slouched, chin angled straight ahead, and eyes compressed closed a little forcefully. It seemed, however, that no matter how long he might try, inner peace was not something he could just simply meditate himself to on this night.

He released a cleansing breath.

Had he truly been in a waking sleep like he had been aiming for, he might not have heard the terribly abrupt pop of an unexpected arrival outside of his apartment. There was instantaneous frantic pounding at the door.

His eyes sprung open and his hands immediately jerked, before he bolted out of his seat and towards the door in a heartbeat. He ripped it open with weary, questioning eyes to land on none other than Shizune. What he saw on her face alarmed him, though his features were relatively composed, he was wide eyed.

"Sakura's back," she wheezed, and though he should be thrilled to hear those words, his heart capsized and his skin was afflicted with an uneasy tingling sensation.

The immediate instinct to panic was overwhelming, but he shut it down instantly, with a sharp nod, and without another word he and the medic were bounding off towards the hospital.

His intestines were in knots as he bounded forward. He attempted to rationalize, to calm himself down, by reminding himself that shinobi were harmed all of the time. Teammates were harmed, people died, people were in danger, these were the kind of things he had seen time and time again.

But it always felt this way; seeing or hearing that someone precious was in danger.

Even though outwardly he was composed, with a stern but collected expression, his thoughts were spiraling. His pulse was pounding.

He couldn't help but recall telling her to careful and he felt mild guilt.

So many years he had known Sakura, so many years she had been the most careful of team seven certainly, and one of the most diligent people he knew.

He decided he would tell her that first chance he got; give her praise of some kind that he never gave her enough of when he were her sensei.

They reached the hospital in minutes, and upon entering, Shizune never stopped to look back at him once as she took off down the hall. Trailing behind her, he allowed his pace to slow marginally, suddenly feeling the need to brace himself.

Shizune entered the room at the very end of the first floor, and he paused just short of it, with a tightly controlled face.

His pulse still felt erratic, however he was calming down for the moment. Whatever had happened, she was in the best hands she could possibly be in, and there was nothing he could do to help by panicking.

Calming himself down he leaned lightly against the wall, lifting a hand to squeeze his temples.

"Kakashi-sensei-" A low voice that seemed much quicker paced than usual, "I mean, Hokage-sama," Shikamaru appeared from down the hallway, approaching rather quickly from the backside, on the opposite end of the door that Sakura must have been behind.

The young Nara looked run-down, fatigued and uptight. His shoulders were stiff and straight, rather than hunched like usual, and his brows were pinched tightly together. His normally heavy lidded eyes were rimmed with faint dark circles, and his skin looked shiny from a layer of sweat and grime. There was a dark splotch, presumably a wound, at his collarbone and another at his bicep, but otherwise he was clear of injuries. They looked to be at least hours old and the blood was dry.

Kakashi pressed himself up from the wall to face the boy. "Shikamaru. What happened?"

He was met with frown, lips twitching even further downward. "It was supposed to be a simple mission, and at first it was. There was no signs that anything would go wrong for the first week, everything was fine until last night." He breathed, lifting a hand he reached into his pocket to withdraw a pack of cigarettes. Dark eyes flickered down to it and he gazed at it for a fraction of a second before he grimaced, sighed and tucked it back into the pocket again. "If she were awake right now she'd punch me in the head," He chuckled dryly, "troublesome woman—anyway, we went to an outlying hovel so she could do her thing and heal the family there, but something went wrong."

He blinked and it was a sluggish blink, as though it was difficult to keep his eyes open. "I stepped outside for a smoke-" His pupils directed down at the words, as though he were ashamed of himself, "Things seemed normal, and I was there to help her, I was only a step away, but next thing I know there were incoming rogues." His eyes shifted back up, and he sounded annoyed, "I don't think they're linked to any important groups, but I don't know the motive as of yet. When they ambushed us, one must have been in the room, because they got the jump on her. I think it was poisoned, because she was out soon after."

Kakashi nodded, noticing for the first time that his own eyes burned and felt heavy. "That's fine for now," He exhaled quietly, "just go get some rest, i'll stay here with Sakura and you can tell me the rest in the morning."

The Nara looked grateful as he nodded and lowered his head, "Of course, Hokage-sama," He took a step back, giving Kakashi a long glance that the copynin couldn't quite deduce the meaning of, before he turned and made his way down the hall.

A second of gathering his breath and he leaned back against the wall. His eyes fluttered closed and he exhaled painfully. He could feel the burn in his chest no matter how much he breathed, or how hard he tightened the grip of his closed fists.

* * *

{_ galena _}_ : assists in facing and overcoming one's deepest fears _


	6. onyx

_chapter 5. onyx._

* * *

It was hours later when Kakashi woke with a start at the sound of a low voice above him. He had at some point slid down the wall to sit on the ground propped up there with arms crossed over his chest and his chin dropping to rest against collarbones.

His body flinched awake, with brows wiggling up and then down into a frown, as he angled bleary eyes up at a very tired looking ex-hokage.

Tsunade herself stood before him in her white overcoat with some fresh bloodstains at the ends of her sleeves, as well as the bends of her arms, just above her forearms. Her hair was rumpled and there was a very thin layer of perspiration just above her tapered brows. Her hands hung slack at her sides and as she peered down at him her expression was a flat line of exhaustion.

"Kakashi," She mumbled his name on a gruff tone, but he could sense the underlying fondness. Regardless of technical ranks, she spoke very informally to him and he couldn't imagine any other dynamic between them. She liked to joke that the day she referred to him as 'hokage', would be the day she was too old to maintain her beauty or to gamble any longer and therefore had nothing left to live for.

He stood instantly, feeling an ache in his back from sleeping sitting up and hunched over. "Tsunade-sama, tell me."

She released a puff of breath and her postured switched from weary to the same sort of emotive as usual. Her thin brows sunk low as she spoke, "Your team is gonna be the death of me, that's all I'll tell ya for right now. If it isn't Naruto, it's Sakura, and if it isn't Sakura, it's you." She sighed fervently, but her tone lightened with fondness soon there after. "She's gonna be fine," Tsunade grinned, "at least, until I make her pick up extra hospital shifts for being so careless."

It felt as though his spine was unwound at the words; his posture dipped into a much more comfortable line, all the tension drained from his features and his lips beneath their mask finally separated from their near permanent frown.

Kakashi stuffed his hands into his pockets and leaned back lightly against the wall. "Did she tell you anything?"

Tsunade seemed to deflate at his comment for a moment, as though she found it inappropriate before her expression seemed to chide him; with bent lips and one brow high and the other low, "Are you asking me as the official hokage, or as a former member of her team who cares about her well being?"

He exhaled lightly, "Both?"

She snorted at his response. "Then, as a former member of her team and the current hokage, no, she didn't have anything to say." The blonde rotated herself until she was aligned against the wall at Kakashi's side, and she leaned her weight against the wall with a huff. "She was barely conscious for a few minutes when Shikamaru carried her in, but she was entirely delirious. Nothing useful to report there." She spoke while gazing blankly at the wall on the opposite side of the room and he stared with her. Soon the smooth gray seemed a hazy white to his tired eyes, and he could spot every imperfection.

Tsunade's voice sounded quiet and tired, and very distant, though she was right beside him. "She was definitely poisoned and it worked too quickly for her to combat it with her healing, either that or something else kept her from healing herself. I'm not certain, but I do know you won't get anything out of her until she's fully recovered; two days hospital time." She demanded, and her chin finally turned in his direction, he could see it out of the corner of his eyes. "I'd better not find out you've been poking and prodding my precious student for information. You can figure all of that stuff out later, for now she needs rest. She's all healed up, they weren't too extensive, but there was one that was deep, and close to her liver that could have caused her to bleed out—she's lucky Shikamaru managed to handle those bastards however he did and got her back here. He didn't stop and for that reason she's here now. She must have been unconscious for hours even before the entire trip back." She murmured.

Kakashi shifted his eyes and they met with honey orbs that seemed to project both a calmness and a fear and affection that made him think about what Tsunade almost lost; what they both almost lost. It was possible that Sakura wouldn't have pulled through.

What Sakura meant to Tsunade, as a treasured student, he could relate—his stomach clenched into knots as he imagined another outcome than the calm conversation they were having.

"Thank you," He murmured, with mismatched orbs scanning her features. "Without _you_..."

For a moment she just gazed at him, before she gave him a sharp nod and then turned her face away entirely. "I didn't do it for you," She offered bluntly.

There was a long moment of silence between them in which they stared out before them, and he could hear the previous hokage breathing quietly. They were quiet, even breathes, almost meditative, like he wished he could achieve. No matter how he tired he had to actively focus on controlling his breath these days.

"Get some sleep," Tsunade's voice was mildly abrupt and he turned his chin in her direction again, "you look like hell—almost as bad as Sakura used to when you'd come in all banged up. She would always be so worried that you would run away before you took the time to properly heal."

A heavy weight sunk to the bottom of his throat at the thought. He forced a kind of aloofness, "Yeah, I'm sure." It was meant to be a general response and his forgoer gave him a dry laugh.

"Go sleep it off—she's fine." She repeated as if she felt the need to convince him.

He was grateful for it, truth be told. It still felt like a dream, a nightmare truly. His stomach was still upset and his muscles felt weak. He could only keep thinking negative, frightful thoughts. The acidic kinds of thoughts that he knew would ruin him if he didn't disregard them.

His companion reached a hand out and slapped him on the shoulder lightly, before turning and walking away. The taps of her heels echoed until she was on the elevator and on her way up to another floor.

He wondered if he truly did look at bad as he felt, and as it seemed to Tsunade. His immediate guess was definitely; he could imagine how terrible he look, especially if it was relative to how he felt, both physically and emotionally.

All he could keep thinking was; what if—what if she hadn't returned?

Spinning on the balls of his feet, he found himself drifting slowly, as if in a daze, towards that room. The hospital was quiet, peaceful even, at this time of night. The entire floor seemed empty and irrelevant besides that door within arms reach of him.

He entered like a ghost, with eyes heavy lidded and slightly blurry. The lights above head were an intense white, and the entire room smelled very sterile and plastic. There was a faint beeping, and his eyes took in the sight of the perfectly made bed. It was still tucked in at the bottom corners, and the blue blanket was smooth and flawless, with the exception of the lump in the middle—a lump that was Haruno Sakura.

Laying flat, with palms face down on the bed at both sides, and her hair spread out over a squeaky pillow, she appeared serene, untouched; exactly as he recalled her being. The only difference being she was peacefully sleeping in a hospital gown with a single square of gauze hiding an IV drip connected to her right arm.

He hovered near her bed for a moment simply gazing down at her. She who was somehow so important, despite his wishes to keep everyone at arms distance.

Releasing a relieved sigh, as though he could finally breath again, he closed his eyes in a moment of reverence. It felt simultaneously frightening and intense, the sense of relief and attachment he felt.

Quickly finding the one chair in the room and sliding it near her bedside he sunk into it eagerly, crossing his arms over his chest and falling asleep nearly instantly.

* * *

Bird calls and sunlight were what disturbed him the next morning. When cracking open his eyes, the morning was bright and intrusive to his senses, and he squinted and shielded his eyes with his hand.

Immediately, he had to question if the entire night was a dream; had he simply imagined that Sakura had returned? Had he imagined that she looked so peaceful?

His brows, for once, weren't locked into a low pinched frown. Lowering his hand he saw the hospital room, though he expected it, it still felt like a single droplet of cold water dripping down his spine. His exposed eyes shifted to take in the room, where discarded in the corner was Sakura's mission clothes, which were a bloody, dirty heap. There was a distinct smell of fresh iodine and cleaning liquids, as though a nurse had been in recently to change Sakura's bandages, which seemed strange to him as he hadn't heard anyone.

He wondered just how heavy his sleep had been, before he rejected the thought for it's irrelevance in the long term.

Rather his eyes switched their direction towards the bed, and he could feel his pupils dilating.

She was there, and as he peered at her he realized that she was not asleep, but rather appeared to just be in a state between rest and relaxation. Her brows were neutral, and her teeth were pulling lightly at her lips as though she was thinking or dreaming—while her eyes remained closed, her fingers bounced lightly where they lay folded across her stomach.

He peered at her for a moment, attempting to keep his pulse from spiking uncomfortably, and keeping his features very composed.

Though he was uncertain what to say, he did find—as he often did—that he wanted to say _something_.

So he settled for clearing his throat with a soft rumble.

The effect was instantaneous, as her eyelids flickered open to expose her vibrant green orbs. They chased the sound rapidly, landing on him within the same breath he'd released the noise on.

Eyes met for a space of time, gazing and assessing, and neither spoke, before his even, collected expression up-tilted into his usual aloof cheer. "Yo, Sakura-chan." He exhaled and the words seemed so much more meaningful than normal.

Rosy pink lips shifted into a grin, before busting into a wide, genuine smile. "You're awake."

He nodded, standing up and walking to her bedside. Immediately, he shoved his hands into his pockets—as it was the only place he felt he could truly trust they would remain entirely under his control. As long as they were shielded from her view, she wouldn't be able to see the excited and nervous tremor that cut through them every few moments.

"You're awake too."

She smiled and attempted to push herself up into a sitting position. Though he might have chosen to stand idly by, it seemed instinctively, he was far more sensitive than he wanted to appear. His hands ripped out of their safe holsters and his calloused fingers had slipped around the papery gown at the top of her shoulder caps in no time. Gingerly he gripped her as he helped guide her up into sitting position.

Her response was a slight pink shade over her cheeks and a bit of an embarrassed frown. "You don't have to do that," She mumbled, "It doesn't even hurt anymore."

He snatched his hands back as if she was burning to the touch, holstering them as if he was extinguishing the fire she'd set inside of him by putting them away. He forced a laugh, "The doc says you've got bed rest for two more days—doesn't sound like you're healed to me."

She huffed lightly, "I'm fine, don't worry about me."

It felt like she'd struck a cord inside of him as though he was a guitar. The notes bounced around inside of his rib cage, causing his heart to flutter along with the beat. "Who says I'm worried?" He teased, but there was no substance behind it.

The smile she gave him was bright, "I say." She countered boldly.

He stood at her bedside rather awkwardly, with his back in a straight line as he faked a very nonchalant expression. "Well, when the first place you have to go when you get back from a mission is the hospital-" His words died off and his sentence evaporated midair as he peered at her face. Her expression, which was a sweet smile, became tacky and forced. As though it was stuck, he could see the spark inside of her eyes that he'd seen a thousand times before and his stomach dropped; he'd hurt her feelings.

He had said something that she had taken some kind of way.

Rather quickly after his dying sentence, he exhaled heavily, and he glanced back up at her fake smile with a fake smile of his own, holding it for a second before speaking. "I'm glad...-" he paused, partly for effect but also because he was having a difficult time finding the ability to make the words come out beyond his fake impassiveness. "-that you're okay, Sakura."

Her smile was still frozen for a long minute after his words, before it melted and her expression became a very hazy mixture of happy and shocked.

"Kakashi-sensei..." She exhaled his name on a similar tone that he had heard her say Naruto's and it hit him like hammer to a nail. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen."

He shrugged instantly, "Don't worry about it."

His eyes shifted away from her to gaze out the window and his aloof expression was slightly less forced than a moment ago. His pulse still seemed to thrum within his chest but he didn't have time to count the beats before he felt an intrusion; warm, soft, human flesh. Casting his eyes down swiftly, he saw Sakura leaned forward in her bed, with her left hand brushing against his own hand. They were linked for a long moment as she gave him a gentle, supportive squeeze. "You _were_ worried." She wasn't pulling any punches it seemed.

It was all he could do to make eye contact with her as she gave him an impudent, perceptive grin, "You stayed there all night," her green eyes shifted to the chair then back, "I know because I woke up several times and you were always in the same position- you were worried about me—So, I'm sorry for making you worry."

He gritted his teeth, and he was thankful the mask was there to cover up the dents in his jawline. His eyes fluttered closed in what was mock coolness. They crinkled at the corners as a way of smiling at her, and she seemed comforted by it.

His heart tightened uncomfortably and he put all of his focus into keeping his hand steady as she held it in her own, until the eventual moment that her petite, soft fingers dropped away.

He had no response to her comments, and she didn't ask him for one, nor did she keep talking after he stood silently at her side.

There was a very heavy fact that was impossible to ignore, weighing heavily on his shoulders as he gazed out the window and pretended to be casual for a long moment—that fact was that Haruno Sakura had a certain kind of power over him, one that he was hesitant to admit to previous to that day in the hospital. Even after the night they had spent on the battlefield while she healed the wounded, even after he actually became hokage largely inspired by her and her words and actions. He never truly wanted to admit it; but standing there at her side in that hospital room he came to realize that he could no longer pretend he didn't know what it was—he could no longer hope it was a problem that would go away on it's own.

Truth be told, it frightened him; more than anything had frightened him in so long he could barely remember.

* * *

{ _onyx_ } : _helps release negative emotions such as sorrow and grief. _


	7. dolomite

_chapter 6. dolomite._

* * *

The sky called her from outside that afternoon. Hours after Kakashi had drifted away very early that morning and after nurses had came and left again. Sakura stood before the window seal with one hand lightly rubbing a towel against her pink locks to absorb the moisture, and the other hand hanging at her side. She blinked absentmindedly as she gazed at the deep blue sky.

It had been a somewhat boring, but all together nice evening. Tsunade made an appearance to ask how she was and offer a spare change of clothes. It was a nice thing, to have those important few people in and out of her room and it had Sakura's spirits lifted immensely by the time mid-afternoon came.

Sakura rinsed with a quick shower and was toweling off her hair when she heard a light tapping on the open door of her holding room. Green eyes shifted from the window over to meet the rather dreary features of her most recent mission partner and it simultaneously brought a tremendously confusing mix of positive and negative emotions.

Heavy lidded eyes, with a twinge of gladness clearly present on his features, Shikamaru had one hand lifted to scratch at the back of his head. She could smell him the moment he entered, hazy and unmistakable. She pressed her lips together before turning them into a smile.

His own features seemed hesitant but pleased to see her up and moving. They both stood clothed in very similar standard issued shinobi gear, with similarly stiff postures.

"Yo, Sakura," He grinned mildly, "You look well."

She tossed her towel aside and gave him her full attention. Her damp hair felt heavier than usual as she lifted a hand to brush her bangs into place. "Thanks, Shikamaru." She then laced her fingers before her as he stepped into the threshold of the room to stand near the foot of her bed a few steps away.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay." He sized her up with a small amount of visible hesitation.

There was a moment of hesitation on her part as well, before she swallowed dryly. "I'm fine it seems," She grinned, "in no small part thanks to you."

He shrugged, "It's my duty to protect my friends—besides, you would do the same for anyone else."

She nodded, glancing around, seemingly distracted by the clean spaciousness of her room. At times she was still a little uncertain on exactly how to graciously accept praise. It was something she seemed to receive so little, especially from people she truly respected. "Thanks, but you really did well. I ruined the mission with my carelessness."

The immediate reaction he gave was a dry chuckle and it snapped her eyes away from counting tiles to land on his smooth features, generally aloof and seemingly despondent. They wore a very gentle smile, almost not there, but yet, the curve of his lips spoke so loudly. "Nonsense." He took a moment to lift a knuckle up to lightly scratch his eyebrow as if he were a little embarrassed to be so open, "you did a great job. No one will soon forget the impact your healing went on that village, even if it ended the way it did."

A pink blush spread over her cheeks and she gazed blatantly surprised at him for a moment. Her lips were parted and she took a breath before her features unfroze. "I don't remember what happened," She admitted after she unstuck, sending mint green eyes to study the lines of his face.

His first response was an uninterested frown, his lips twisted down and he gave a one-shouldered shrug. "We'll figure it out later. For now, take it easy."

She exhaled at his words, both annoyed and flattered that he seemed to care whatsoever. "People keep saying that. First Tsunade, then Kakashi-sensei. Everyone just wants me to heal, but I'm fine. Mostly, I want to know what happened."

For a moment they gazed at each other and his neutral expression was a line of ambiguity before his eyes flickered shut in a lazy way. "They just care, that's all." He grinned, "Those two care about you very much. If Naruto were here it would be the same."

Taking a moment to consider his words, she gazed at a spot at his chest and unfocused her eyes.

She had never truly doubted that Kakashi cared about her, but at times, especially as a young girl and when she was having a particularly bad day, she would tell herself things; terrible things, things that made her question herself, and her worth. She always wondered, as a genin, whether he didn't pay as much attention to her because she was weaker. If it was because she was a girl, and always seemed to be two steps behind her teammates.

At times, she still questioned it.

After the war, there were times when he seemed so cold and distant. He would disappear behind that door in the hokage tower, and he wouldn't see her for more than a few hours all together in a month.

It seemed strange that once upon a time all she had was he and Naruto and Sasuke. These days, Naruto was off furthering his skills so that one day he may become hokage like he dreamed, and Sasuke was just simply removed from her life. He had duties and things to attend to, and usually was off on a mission if he was allowed the chance.

All she had to rely on anymore was Kakashi. Not that she blamed either of her other boys, of course.

But having only Kakashi felt so much more lonely than having Naruto ever did; Kakashi was a rock—he was solid, difficult to read, and at times she felt that he was purposefully withdrawing himself from her.

It was so confusing that she questioned whether she even mattered to him in the long run.

Her eyes refocused on Shikamaru and she gave him a quizzical look, "It seems to me that Kakashi-sensei just doesn't think I can handle having the discussion right now. He thinks I'm too emotional and that I'll be overwhelmed." She had meant to say '_they'_, but '_Kakashi' _somehow came to the forefront of her mind.

She received an equally quizzical frown in return. "Do you really believe that?"

Her eyes flickered away before they turned back to him and she gave a very soft nod.

Shikamaru gave her a smile that lifted one corner of his lips. "Firstly, I don't think anyone would be surprised if you _were_ emotional or overwhelmed sometimes, but—do you really think he thinks that?" He chuckled, "I'm glad I'm not Kakashi right now."

She tilted her head to the side and chewed her lip, "What are you talking about _now_?"

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "You are one difficult woman." He grinned, before releasing a puff of breath, "Don't doubt your sensei—don't worry so much," she peered into his deep brown eyes as he spoke, and she thought he sounded a lot like his own sensei once had. Wise, a little unprecedented and unlikely as a leader, and a smoker to boot,"it's bad for your health, not to mention it's troublesome."

Truly, she was grateful to have made friends with a guy like Shikamaru. She nodded at his words and then mocked a frown, "Don't call me difficult," She teased, "don't you know that's the last thing a lady wants to hear."

He shrugged, "I'm not good at saying things people want to hear. Too troublesome to try and figure it out—I just say what I know."

And she thought about just how wrong he was; it was somehow exactly what she wanted and needed to hear. "Thanks for saving my ass."

He stuffed his fingers into his pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes, "don't mention it; or better yet, just don't nag me next time I go for a smoke, and we'll call it even."

She released a taxing sigh, "_Fiiiiiiine_." She drew out the syllables as they began walking side by side out the room with the intent to go to the roof. He liked to gaze at the clouds and smoke his cigarettes there, and today she would be accompanying him, _without_ the nagging about the habit.

* * *

Making a point of waiting until late afternoon to go for a visit—not because he was really that busy but because he wanted to _appear_ busy—Kakashi made his way with hands crammed into pockets and a neutral tone to his features. Lips were a flat line beneath his mask and his eyes were low lidded.

The halls of the hospital were calm this evening, and as he walked his way to visit Sakura on her second full day at the hospital, he thought about many things. His mind was racing, and his shoulders were hunched under the weight of his responsibility to remain silent about those thoughts. He counted the floor tiles as he walked.

It didn't seem abnormal for him to look up and see Shikamaru on his way down the hall, with his back in the direction of Sakura's room, but it still somehow surprised Kakashi.

He didn't know that the Nara and Sakura were so close, but it seemed that way.

Perhaps there was something more than comrades between them? He nearly choked on the thought as he and Shikamaru's paths converged and Shikamaru came to stop before him. Kakashi felt the need to stop as well, else it would be rude.

He gave a light sigh as he stood before the rather tall boy, with his naturally aloof appearance and low, dull voice. "Shikamaru-kun." He greeted him with a cheerful tone, "headed home?"

The boy nodded briefly, but had no comment on the question. Rather, much like Sakura, he got right to the point. "Sakura's awake." He kindly informed the copynin. "She's leaving in the morning, probably pretty early."

To this Kakashi gave a bounce of his chin in acknowledgment, uncertain what else to say or do.

The boy lifted his hand to give a wave, "I'm going home now. Been here for a few hours." He gave a casual grin. "Consoling that girl is troublesome."

Kakashi gazed at the lazy boy. The sentence was seemingly a friendly offering, but it somehow settled heavily on his chest.

_Jealous_? He frowned at himself; was he jealous?

"I don't think she wants to hear it from _me_ anyways." He lifted his hand in a lazy wave similar to one Kakashi himself might offer. "Later Hokage-sama."

His eyes with their mismatched colors assessed the features before him, as Shikamaru said his goodbye and then drifted around his side. Kakashi's chin trailed to follow the boy until he was all the way down the hall. He turned to the side and watched him go, feeling rather strange about the whole encounter.

He truly didn't understand that Nara. Shikamaru was close to Tsunade, as well as Gaara in the war, and Naruto trusted Shikamaru as well. It seemed strange to Kakashi. Perhaps there was more to that boy than it seemed.

Bracing his shoulders he lifted a hand to massage the muscles lightly for a moment, before breathing out heavily, and turning. His steps were slow as he made his way to Sakura's room. He wasn't certain he was even ready to confront her again after their last encounter.

There was a surreal moment where he came to a realization, not that it was her fault, but it had _changed_ something. The way he thought of her, the way he felt about her.

She had been in his dreams that night. Heavy, emotional, vibrant dreams. Dreams featuring themes that he had never thought he would see. The way she would exhale, the way her body moved, the way her hair fell and her lips parting, or turning up into a smile. Those dreams—dream after _dream_—were intense, overwhelming.

Time and time again he woke up in sweats, his entire body feeling hot and tense, his muscles clenched and his brows lowered. He felt guilty to dream about those things—but worse than that, he felt guilty because he was beginning _not_ to feel guilty.

It was becoming a normal occurrence, for so long it had if he were being honest with himself.

He turned the door to her room very cautiously, as though he thought he were truly inside of a dream even then. The last thing he wanted was to be in yet another Sakura filled dream.

Where those usually ended up—he felt his stomach twist—he wasn't certain he was mentally prepared to see that in person yet.

She was standing near the window, with her hands hanging naturally at her sides; her petite form was clothed in traditional shinobi gear. Dull blacks and greens, a vest, with the exception of the pouches at her waist, which were missing from the ensemble. Upon his entering she spun around instantly, and their eyes met with little to no time for him to prepare himself.

He paused at the doorway as her eyes pinned him there. He took a deep breath.

She looked so happy to see him. Happy, yet nervous, as though she was sad it had to be under these circumstances that they were meeting.

"Hello Sakura," His tone was slightly less playful than usual, as he lifted two fingers in a cool greeting.

A smile brightened her peachy features. The window before her was open, though the sky was a faded dark gray-blue, it still seemed to reflect upon her in a way that made her glow. He began to wonder if the lighting mattered at all, or if it was just his imagination running away again.

"Kakashi-sensei, you're back."

He nodded seriously, finally managing to push into the room even under her sharp, beautiful gaze. Though, he didn't dare drift nearer to her than a few feet. "I'm back."

His eyes scanned over her and she looked relaxed, which allowed some of his tension to drain for the moment. He mimed her as best as possible, feeling the rigid line of his back unwind slightly.

"Checking up on me?"

He shrugged, "A hokage cares about his charges."

She found this humorous and her features upturned, "I'm lucky that the hokage cares so much about me."

Inside his stomach there was a wave that felt pleasantly warm and welcomed. "Have you eaten today?" He asked suddenly, annoyed with himself for how affectionate he sounded without his own permission.

She didn't seem thrown off by the statement at all, so he was able to keep his calm. "A little," She chimed, "me and Shikamaru got something earlier."

A small dab of envy came over him and he tried to suppress it. Envy was better, more explainable, than _jealousy_, but it still hit him hard.

"You can go home tomorrow right?"

Another smile came over her, "Yeah, I'm looking forward to going home to my apartment. I miss that place. After so long sleeping in that village and then here, I really miss my own bed."

They were making small talk, he noticed rather suddenly. Somehow he couldn't think of many others he made small talk with this easily. Usually he was a rather quiet man, who preferred to listen or respond. He didn't know small talk like this was even something he was capable of doing.

He exhaled loudly, and a quizzical gaze nailed him to the ground. Her green eyes were searching his face for a reason for the sigh and he didn't want to give her one. As a way to halt the what felt like inevitable day she found out about his thoughts and feelings, he closed his eyes in a forced sense of casual.

"Hospital food isn't that good," He said quietly, his eyes remaining hidden under close eyelids. "I would know."

Though he couldn't see her he could hear the lightness lift her voice again. "That's true, you would know."

His heart was pounding.

"If you can empathize with me so much, take me to get something better."

His eyes shot open and he examined a light smile that mimicked his own; eyes closed, head mildly tilted, closed lips in a smile. Instantly he questioned whether he was still dreaming, not for the first time since he'd entered the room.

A second passed by before he found his voice again. "Sure."

Her own eyes opened and they met for a moment. The source of her feelings or thoughts was masked and he couldn't read her current emotion as she peered at him. "In the morning when I leave, take me to get some real food."

It wasn't really that she was asking him, so much as telling him. He imagine she would say something similar to Naruto, or maybe even Shikamaru it seemed. However it still felt like a rock sinking to the bottom of his heart, and simultaneously like tingling and fluttering inside of his stomach. "Sure." He repeated.

It wasn't a date.

It was him doing her a favor as a friend.

Because he was the hokage and he cared about his charges.

"I can do that." He exhaled the words on a rumbling, low voice.

She gave him a broad smile. "I'm glad."

* * *

{ _dolomite }_: _encourages self-realization_.


	8. kunzite

_a/n; sorry about the few months of hiatus. i actually moved to a new state, so i've been busy settling in. won't be on hiatus any longer. thanks for reading. i always appreciate any reviews._

* * *

_chapter 7. kunzite._

* * *

Time was moving along at a cruelly sluggish pace that day as Sakura waded through the rest of the afternoon until she could manage to fall asleep. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't seem to find reprieve from the restlessness she felt. Though the sky was vast and dark and most of the lights of the village had long ago drifted out, the kunoichi found herself wide awake.

In combination with the need to be useful, rather than sitting around doing nothing at a hospital, as well as the anxiousness to speak again to Shikamaru to find out his point of view of what exactly had happened on her mission. The relative chaos of her thoughts was causing her nerves to fray and keeping her from restful reprieve.

She sat in a lumpy chair near the fluttering curtains near the window in her hospital room, gazing out at the night sky. Her teeth picked at her lips as she scanned the sky. Absentmindedly, she lifted her fingers to chew on the skin around her nails as she thought of exactly how silly she felt. Embarrassed to her very core. Her teeth paused in their ministrations and instead she slid both hands up to cover her face in nervous humility.

She had practically begged for that mission. Kakashi wasn't going to send her, but she had convinced him that she was suited for the mission; yet she had fumbled and ruined everything.

It was because of her that the mission was a failure.

No matter what nice words Shikamaru had to say about her duties being fulfilled on that mission, nor the fact that Kakashi didn't seem to be worried about the failure; she just simply _knew_. She knew how stupid she must have seemed.

Her thoughts drifted to the night the Hokage had appeared at her door. Somehow, before he walked out that night he had given into her and agreed. He must have felt as foolish as she did for trusting her. This she had convinced herself was the truth of the matter.

The only thing she succeeded in where this mission was concerned, was bruising her ego and letting her village down with her carelessness.

Perhaps if she had sensed the threat sooner, or noticed that the elderly woman she was healing at the time was acting rather suspiciously. If she had only paid more attention, she wouldn't have been harmed so and she wouldn't have put such a strain on Shikamaru either.

She sighed into the gaps of her fingers, letting her hands go limp and plop down onto the tops of her thighs.

Logically, she knew that worrying about this wouldn't do anything to ease her tension, nor would it take back what had happened, however she was feeling as low and moronic as she was lonely and useless. It was not turning out to be one of her best nights, even in spite of the fact that she had somehow managed to schedule a meeting with the hokage himself in the morning.

Her stomach plummeted at the thought of spending time alone with Kakashi after what had happened.

When he stopped by that afternoon, she had attempted to remain lighthearted, in an effort to keep her own spirits up. Perhaps even because she didn't want him to worry, or to disappoint him further by blubbering and crying about her own failure. However now that she was alone on this night, with only the time to reflect upon herself, she was feeling extremely critical of herself.

Her brows sunk low; Kakashi would probably spare her from a scalding because he thought she couldn't handle being told how stupid she was for letting her guard down. Much like Sasuke, she always had sensed that Kakashi thought she was a helpless little girl who didn't know how to do anything right. In truth, being around Kakashi was sometimes very difficult, because it caused her a great deal of stress as she constantly checked up on herself. The last thing she wanted was to fail any of her teammates, especially Naruto, Sasuke or Kakashi, even Sai and Yamato, truth be told. They mattered so much to her.

She wondered if tomorrow would be the day Kakashi finally broke down and told her to her face that she was annoying.

Flashes of a teenage inception rapidly appeared in her head; hearing the boy that she thought she loved, the boy that she thought cared about her as well, call her just such a word. He called her annoying, he called her useless, he threatened her, sneered at her, looked down on her abilities.

She began to pick at the skin of her fingers again. Kakashi must have felt like that as well, she just knew it.

The nighttime brought no reprieve, and she barely fell into an exhausted, dreamless sleep just before the sun was due to rise. Her neck was craned down, posture slumped and hair dipped down to cover her eyes as she eventually unintentionally fell asleep in her worrying chair in full shinobi gear.

It wasn't even two hours of rest before she was awoken again by a final check-in from her nurse. Once the formality was over with, she found her way into the bathroom to gaze at herself in the mirror. There was a dark tint beneath her wide eyes, and her hair was askew. She looked slightly gaunt to her own eyes, a little pale and definitely exhausted. She was certain she couldn't hide it from Kakashi, that much was for certain.

She released a taxed sigh, lifting her finger and tracing the outline of her face in the mirror. She had to somehow make this day go as planned and she had no idea how to pull off such a feat.

* * *

The morning brought with it such high levels of both excitement and apprehension as Kakashi stood at his window, gazing out with pinched brows. Today was already turning out to be a confusing day for him

So many thoughts drifting about inside of him that there was little room for clarity and calm, which was how he very much liked to keep things. Over the past several years, there seemed to be little room for much else besides emotional pandemonium, especially where a certain kunoichi was concerned.

He often thought of outright blaming her for the effect she had on him—which looking back on it, hardly seemed fair—for the way she made him feel. He wondered if she did it on purpose, or perhaps if she was aware that she had such a strong effect on him. His lips dipped into a frown as he thought of that selfishness.

His selfishness was a means to an end; his sanity needed to be kept in tact somehow.

Continuing his ceaseless yearning, pining, intense fondness for his female comrade was no longer a slightly indecent, nagging pastime. He couldn't brush it off as simply being attached to her after so many years of being at her side. It couldn't be so easily explained as incredible respect—respect she had long ago genuinely earned from him, in truth.

All things considered, he was very aware, that his borderline inappropriate fascination with his pink haired friend, was becoming quite a bit _too_ keen.

His muscles were as tense as ever and as usual there was an arresting sort of heat within his chest where thoughts of Sakura were concerned.

He gritted his teeth, abruptly turning away from the morning sky and snatching up his long sleeve shirt from it's discarded place and tugging it over his head without a seconds more hesitation. His steps were assured as he bypassed his hokage regalia, never once considering whether it was proper not to be seen without his white cloak or not.

Today he would not be leaving his house as Hokage. He would not be the commander of the village, not the tired, jaded old once-great shinobi. He wouldn't sign any papers today, wouldn't sit upon the rooftop of the Hokage tower gazing out at the trees daydreaming about a time long passed. He wouldn't assign missions, wouldn't delegate and wouldn't walk through the village waving at each citizen who saw him in uniform.

On his way through his living area he made a stop by lone bedside table, void of any decoration or ornaments, merely a lamp settled there. His fingers pried open the draw and spread out in a fan there, he picked out among them his favorite book from the icha icha series. The familiar coolness of the paperback sent a sense of calm up his bones as he shut the drawer back and held the book close to his side.

As he turned around he didn't spare a second glance at his hat, didn't even consider looking at it.

Rather he walked with a sense of rigid purpose towards the door.

This day was not one dedicated to his recently rewarded title. Today he would not be "hokage-sama", today he would be just _himself_. He would walk down the streets in his familiar traditional black shinobi gear, with his nose buried in his sacred book and he would simply walk past those who blinked at him with disapproval.

At least until tomorrow, he would postpone being hokage.

Today he had to pay homage to the very reason he became the leader of his precious village. People would look at him curiously, perhaps he would even get scolded by elders or shinobi he passed, but for just one day, he would spend all of his time focused upon the very reason he had traded in his previous self for a more public image and goal.

He stepped out of his apartment and made his way down the street, making eye contact with several villagers the moment he did. Many of them looked at him strangely, several of them squinted uncertainly, some frowned. He gave them a detached nod before bending his elbow and putting up his familiar raunchy novel as a shield. His heart felt much less heavy with the pages acting as walls as he made his way towards the hospital.

Kakashi would spend today at Sakura's side, just one day, before he would withdraw.

He had made up his mind.

He would comfort her, give her his entire self for this one day—the self he genuinely wanted to be every day since the day he'd been officially sworn in—and then he would take great care in banishing her from his heart.

Because quite simply, he couldn't take the pressure any longer. He wasn't certain he could combat the strain of his muscles, the vivid dreams, the unwanted, improper thoughts he had been feeling for so long.

Not now that he could no longer deny them.

Not now that he no longer _wanted_ to, somewhere deep down.

His chest felt tight as he made way into the hospital. The whole trip seemed much smoother and less socially intimidating with the presence of his usual demeanor, accentuated by the ability to hide behind his usual reading material. And though he was certain people had been surprised, inquisitive or even judgmental towards him, no one had actually stopped him or said anything. He hadn't even seen the looks they gave him.

His walk to Sakura's room was spent avoiding the tendency he had to involuntarily panic where she was concerned.

Thus when he arrived at her door with his nose obscured behind his book, he had not managed to prepare himself to the same degree as usual when he spotted her. Her room was exposed, door open and inviting. She was gathering things and neatly stacking them into a rucksack at her bedside. The moment he appeared before her she tipped her head up in his direction.

He stilled in her doorway, breathing as evenly as possible as her eyes jumped across his features.

He took a moment, with unmatched eyes, to mirror her action. He observed her as she did him.

Her brows were dipped ever so slightly at the center as she focused on him and beneath them her eyes looked distinctly different than usual. There was a slight impression of sleeplessness beneath her radiant green orbs; dark bags and red rims. Her hair was a little wavy and rumpled from sleep, but she had changed clothes again, this time from shinobi green vest and black pants, into a tan tunic, white pants and heeled boots. Her hands stalled in putting away things and her expression was incredibly vague.

She seemed to have healed completely, but there was something subtly wrong about her demeanor.

There was a second of mutual inspection between them before she straightened her back and her cheeks rounded into a grin. "You're only a little late." She said quietly in an approving but quite surprised tone.

He shrugged, "I'm not good when it comes to time." It was the best he could offer while his chest was constricting as it was. He still had his prized book in place in front of his masked face.

With her eyes scanning him, the upward curve of her lips never dropped away. "No, I'm not complaining." She walked around the bed in his direction and he stiffened. His left hand was crammed in his pocket and he was annoyed at the anxious flutter that shot through his fingers and down into his stomach. She glanced over his body, her eyes snagging over his shoulders, down his stomach, bouncing back and forth from each knee, to his feet and back up. The green depths of her iris's landed on his book before meeting the one visible eye he had unveiled. He remained entirely arrested by her appraisal. His spine was locked into a hard column. His muscles were compressed as he peered at her. His sharingan spun beneath his closed eye and he was thankful that she couldn't see it.

"You're not wearing your cloak," here her lips quirked slightly in their smile, "and you have that book." She pointed out.

He wasn't certain how to feel about the situation, as such he merely nodded in response.

Her right hand came up to rest on her hip. "I haven't seen you like this in a long time."

He attempted to give her a cool grin through the pounding of his heart.

"I gotta say—I'm getting a little bit of nostalgia here."

There was a moment in which he just swallowed dryly before he dropped his book away from his face for the first time. "Been getting outraged looks all morning." He told her with a humorous tone.

His female counterpart turned a cheeky squint on him, "Can't blame them. Our most honorable Hokage walking through the streets reading such perverted things." She teased.

Freeing his hand from his pocket, he shoved it into his hair a little sheepishly. "It's hardly a crime." He closed his precious book with a crisp snap and stowed it away, glancing back up at her and lifting his hands up to show he was empty handed.

Her smile doubled. "Good. I was about to start throwing punches. Bringing that raunchy book along to pick me up, how shameless, Kakashi-sensei."

"I'll find it difficult to take you to get some real food if you hospitalize me, Sakura-chan." He glanced over her in her casual clothes, any signs of her being a kunoichi absent besides the purple mark square in the middle of her forehead, and perhaps the subtle lines of her toned legs beneath her form fitted pants.

Their banter ceased long enough for her to reach over to her bed and grab up her small bag, looping the straps around her shoulders before turning her smile back at him. "Let's get out of here." Though her expression was still quite lighthearted, her tone held undertones of exhaustion that he picked up instantly.

He nodded, feeling adrenaline and nerves shoot through him at her words. Not even for one moment could he forget who he was or how she made him feel. There was never an absence of excitement, apprehension and heightened awareness. He was critically aware of her at all times.

As she walked in his direction he slid carefully to the side to make room for her. She passed breezily by him and as he followed her, he fought the urge to loop his arm around her shoulders.

The acknowledgment that he wanted to reach out and touch her was a dangerous one, but somehow, he wasn't surprised by the instinct at all.

He knew however, that he couldn't reach out and place her in the crook of his arm, no matter how he wanted to. Not only was it inappropriate, but he had no doubt that she would take it the wrong way. He knew this woman, he knew Sakura. He knew she would assume he was doing so out of pity for her—alternatively, she could take it exactly for what it was, and that could possibly end just as well in disaster.

He wondered if she would call him a pervert. She obviously thought he was one; she wasn't exactly wrong, at least, not when most people assumed he was one as well. She wasn't alone in assuming such a thing.

His forehead was strained as he attempted not to grimace while following along at her side down the hallway.

This day was proving to be a very confusing day, indeed.

* * *

_{ kunzite }: helps to release blocks in matters of the heart and allows one to move to a more receptive state_


End file.
